


The Gift Of Giving

by LouLa



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:26:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouLa/pseuds/LouLa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Edward saddled himself with the task of fulfilling someone's Christmas wish, he hadn't expected to get so much in return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift Of Giving

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Twilight No Stress Love Fest Holidays Edition.

Edward finds the note on one of the abandoned tables near the back of the library.

He picks it up with the intention of throwing it in the trash, but curiosity gets the better of him. He sits down at the long, narrow table and opens up the piece of folded and torn notebook paper.

In a messy, boyish font, it reads: _Dear Santa,_

_All I want this year is a little bit of happiness._

Frowning, he reads it again, and then again, feeling a pang of sadness each and every time he takes in the words.

"Edward, there you are. Come on, your mom is here."

Edward startles at the interruption. Quickly, he folds up the note and stuffs it into his pocket, hoping Bella doesn't notice. She does, and stares at Edward for a long moment with a look of confusion before she shakes her head at him and turns to walk away.

He rushes up to the front desk to check out his books and nervously thumbs over his pocket as he waits, checking that the small scrap of paper is still there. It is, but he can't stop himself from rechecking, over and over, as if he's afraid it'll disappear.

If his mom or Bella take notice of his strange behavior, neither of them mention it. They talk quietly amongst themselves in the front seat while Edward sits alone in the back, one hand in his pocket fingering over the words that are still rolling through his mind.

He looks up at the sound of his name and sees that they're stopped at Bella's house. She's saying goodbye. Without a thought, Edward mumbles out a farewell and manages a half-wave with his free hand, then turns back to look out the window.

"She's a nice girl," his mother says conversationally as they drive off.

Edward hums noncommittally, his mind elsewhere.

The note has drawn his attention like a beacon. From the safety of the backseat, he carefully removes the paper from his pocket and begins to study it again.

He wonders if there was more to the wish before the paper had been torn. Mostly, he wonders who the author could be. There's no signature or name, nothing to indicate who left the note.

Christmas wishes are usually so materialistic, wants of simple things like bikes and video games. It makes Edward's heart hurt that someone would pine for something like happiness. Everyone deserves to be happy.

―

Edward carries the note with him through the rest of the evening. It's practically burning a hole in his pocket through dinner and heavy like a lead weight whenever someone gets close to him. He's not sure why, exactly, but he doesn't want anyone else to know about it. Like the wish is meant to be his, a secret, just for him to know about.

Later, in his room, he flattens the short letter out on his desk, carefully smoothing out the creases. In the privacy of his bedroom, he whispers the words back to himself, swallowing past the lump that forms in his throat on the word 'happiness.'

It goes without saying that he wants the wish to come true for whoever wrote the words. Decisively, he goes to bed with a plan to help. He doesn't know how, but he's determined to see it through. There's a full week until Christmas, and Edward will do whatever he can to bring a little bit of happiness to this person's life. He has to.

He falls asleep thinking about all the things that make him happy, wondering if any of them will match up to the mystery person.

―

The handwriting is male, he's sure of it. After tracing over the words with his fingertips and hearing them rolling off of his own tongue, he's convinced himself. It could just be wishful thinking, but something in his gut tells him he's right. The penmanship is sloppy, written in blue ink, and the note is torn with a jagged edge across the bottom ― Edward hopes he's right.

He knows the note could have been written simply as a joke, not to be taken seriously, but the solemn feeling he gets whenever he reads it makes him believe differently. The words _feel_ sad. He can't begin to explain it, and he doesn't want to. He tells no one and devises a plan on his own.

First, he needs to find who left the note.

He starts going to the library every day. He walks the six blocks from school, book bag hanging off of one shoulder and the note securely in his pocket.

The tables behind the stacks aren't a very popular place to sit. The lighting is poor and the chairs are all creaky and wobbly. Since it's where Edward found the piece of paper, in the back is where he chooses to do his reading and waiting for... someone.

No one so much as wanders past him on the first or second day, and he goes home disappointed, trying to convince himself it's not completely hopeless. In the end, he simply refuses to give up. He doesn't have much time, and he doesn't want to waste any of it.

On the third day, a Saturday, he begs his mom to let him spend the whole day in the library. She gives him a ride there at nine and agrees to pick him up at five. She hands him a twenty and makes him promise to use it to buy lunch.

The whole building is quiet for the first hour, the back tables just as lonely as usual. He's immersed in his book when he hears someone grumbling and huffing their annoyance.

His eyes snap up expectantly only to see a retreating back. Edward's heart pounds hard in his chest and his mind races. _What if that's him? What if he's the one? Who is he? What does he like? Could it be..._

None of Edward's questions are answered as the boy never turns around or comes back. That makes Edward fret harder, worrying that it's him that scared the boy off. Maybe he likes to be alone; maybe he comes to the back tables because he doesn't want any company. Maybe Edward made his day worse.

Edward nearly makes himself sick with all of his wondering. The only thing he can do is hope that the boy wasn't _his_ boy. But how will he know? Foolishly, he thought he just _would_ , like he would be able to recognize someone he's never even met and knows almost nothing about.

Unhopeful, Edward decides to go get lunch. If nothing else, perhaps his absence will bring the boy back and Edward won't have ruined his day completely.

―

When Edward returns from lunch, there is a boy sitting in the exact spot Edward had been before. He's not the same one Edward saw already. This one has blond hair, and Edward can't help but stop and stare for a moment.

His silent staring doesn't go unnoticed long. He drops his books in surprise when a dark head of hair pops out from behind the blond one. He didn't notice her at first as she was concealed entirely behind the boy's larger frame.

They both look toward him at the clatter of his books toppling to the floor. Blushing furiously, he bends to gather them back into his arms and avoids their gazes as he moves to sit at the table oppose of theirs.

Furtively, he casts glances at the blond boy, studying him, wondering. But more often than not, he finds the boy across from him with a smile adorning his full pink lips. The small girl beside him seems to be the reason for his obvious happiness. She whispers to him and hangs on him constantly.

Defeated, Edward thinks that this boy can't be _the one_. He just looks too happy.

He rubs his thumb disheartenedly over the small note carefully folded in pocket. He's realizing for the first time how foolish this plan was, and how bleak his chances were to begin with. Anyone at all could have left the note. How did he expect to find this mystery person?

He wishes he could just go home, but his day is barely half over and his mom won't be picking him up until supper time. At least he's surrounded by books.

Wallowing in his own self-pity and an equally depressing passage of literature, he nearly misses the sigh from across the table.

At the sound, he looks up. The blond boy is alone, his dark-haired, lively companion no longer at his side. He's leaning forward, elbows resting on the table while he runs his hands through his wavy hair ― it looks soft, Edward thinks.

For a moment, Edward wonders if the new sadness in the boy is because his friend has departed, but looking more closely, he notices how there isn't any change in his eyes. His eyes are the same as they were each and every time he had smiled at the girl.

Wistful.

Edward sits up straighter and swallows compulsively, his heart hammering against his ribs. He closes his book and sets it down on the table with a little more force than he means to, and those sad blue eyes snap up to his. He looks up like he's forgotten he wasn't alone, like he forgot Edward was even there, but now that he's remembered, he puts on a smile. A mask.

The pang resonates through Edward's chest, the same as it did when he read those words.

_...a little bit of happiness._

Breath all caught up in his throat, Edward smiles. The boy doesn't look away, and Edward knows ― somehow, he just _knows_. He can feel it. This is _him_.

"Hi," Edward says shyly in greeting.

"Hey," the boy replies. He drops his head, hand going back to his hair, this time to smooth it down rather than ruck it all up.

Edward clears his throat and awkwardly asks, "Is your– your friend coming back?"

Blue eyes meet Edward's again, before darting toward the direction the girl disappeared. He shrugs and shakes his head. "No, probably not."

Edward contributes the tightening in his stomach to hope and nothing more. "Can I... Would you mind if I sat with you?"

He looks startled at Edward's question, and Edward instantly wants to take it back. He really has no idea what he's doing.

The boy shakes his head, and confused, Edward asks, "Is that a–"

"Yes," he interrupts, and Edward frowns. "I mean no," he continues, then huffs. "I wouldn't mind," he says firmly, kicking the chair across from him out from beneath the table.

Grinning, Edward stands and grabs his books, jogging the short distance between the tables. He would be embarrassed for his own stupidity, but his antics earn him a flash of a dimple and a full-lipped half-smile.

"I'm Edward," he rushes to say, dropping his books and reaching his hand out.

"Jasper," the boy replies, shaking Edward's hand.

"Jasper," Edward repeats.

Jasper smiles wryly, shrugging. "It's a stupid name, I know."

"No! I like it," Edward quickly amends. "And anyway, it's a way better name than Edward. So, where'd your friend go?"

Again, Jasper seems surprised at Edward's question. Perhaps he's being too forward. He's just... curious.

"Um, she had cheerleading something, or dance practice. I... I'm not really sure."

Nodding, Edward blurts, "Who is she?"

"Uh, Alice. Alice Brandon."

"Is she your girlfriend?"

Jasper grows visibly uncomfortable, shifting in his chair and darting his eyes around. "No," he answers eventually. "Not really. Are you interested in her or something?"

"No, I was just wondering," Edward tells him honestly. He's pleased to hear she's not Jasper's girlfriend; she obviously doesn't make him happy.

An awkward silence stretches on between them, and Edward can't think of a thing to say. He's not very good at this. He had a plan, but for the life of him, he can't remember what it was now. He looks down at his book and unseeingly starts to flip through the pages.

"Why?" Jasper asks apropos of nothing.

"Why what?"

"Why were you wondering if Alice was my girlfriend, if you're not interested in her?"

"Oh." It's Edward's turn to feel uncomfortable as Jasper watches him expectantly. "I just..." _found your note and want to know everything there is to know about you._ He can't say that. "I just," he repeats, trailing off again. "Like you," he finishes decisively. It's true. He really likes Jasper so far, and he definitely wants to know more.

At Edward's admission, Jasper smiles again, almost enough to really light him up, but not quite ― there's reservation there, uncertainty. Edward will just have to try harder, tell him _how much_ he likes him.

"What are you reading?" Jasper asks softly, leaning closer over the table.

They don't stop talking all afternoon.

―

Edward's mom is exasperated when she finds him deep in conversation with Jasper. The library is due to close at any minute, and Edward had agreed to be out front at five o'clock sharp. He can hardly believe he spent so long with Jasper, but all he can think about is how it wasn't nearly enough time.

He leaves the library with a promise to be back tomorrow. Jasper struggles for the first time in hours to find something to say to Edward and settles for nodding his head, a tight smile on his lips. Regardless, Edward is giddy, excited to see his new friend again the next day. His mom's annoyance at him doesn't last for long, deteriorating into fondness at her son's strange mood on the ride home. She agrees to drive Edward to town again. The library has short hours on Sundays, and Edward is eager to spend every minute of his time there with Jasper.

Bella calls after dinner, and Edward flops down on his bed with the phone, mind wrought with images of almost smiles and hesitant laughs. He doesn't hear half of what she's saying, but he " _uh-huh_ "s and " _hmm_ "s enough that she doesn't grow suspicious of his attention to her rambling.

"Do you have plans tomorrow?" she asks him.

Instead of giving her an uninterested reply, Edward perks up and says, "Yup. Going to the library."

"Fun! Maybe I'll see you there?"

It's clearly a question. Bella likes going to the library with him, but this time, Edward doesn't want to invite her to come along. He needs more time with Jasper, alone.

"I'm actually meeting someone there, Bells," he says.

The pause before Bella replies is long and quiet. He wonders if their connection is bad, or if her phone battery died.

"Oh," he hears faintly over the phone line.

"Yeah, he's really great. He reads these really intense historical novels, and he's just, he's really cool."

"Oh," Bella says again, hopeful this time. She laughs quietly, an airy sound that is almost relieved. "I thought, when you said you were meeting someone, I thought you meant, like, _meeting someone_."

"I did," Edward replies curtly. "I'm meeting _him_."

He really likes Bella, she's so sweet and a great girl, but he's allowed to have other friends. Friends that aren't from their private school, and friends that aren't her.

Bella inhales sharply at his words, and again says, "Oh."

The line goes quiet again for a long, tense moment before Bella speaks, voice tight and pained. "I didn't know, Edward. I– I had no idea. Why didn't you just _tell_ me?"

"Tell you what?" he wonders, boredly chewing on his thumb nail.

"That you're... you're... you know. I really didn't have any idea, or I wouldn't have... Oh, gosh, I'm so embarrassed. You were never interested in me at all."

Bewildered, Edward manages to mutter nothing more than, "Um," before Bella says she has to go, telling him that she hopes he has fun with his guy friend.

The call ends rather abruptly, leaving Edward staring at the phone in confusion.

It doesn't sink in until later, what it is, exactly, that Bella had been saying ― that he'd never been interested in her.

Of course he isn't, not in _that_ way. She's a really great friend, but nothing more. She's not his type, at all. He isn't exactly sure what his type is to begin with, but he definitely knows that she's not it.

 _Jasper might be_ , he thinks, smiling to himself.

When he realizes fully what that would mean, it wipes the smile right off his face.

Belatedly, he knows what word Bella had been looking for, trying to say.

_Gay._

It's not as scary as he thought it might have been, to admit to himself that he is.

Gay. He's gay.

And Bella knows, apparently.

He's not worried about her. She wouldn't tell anyone. Rumors are nasty things, and Bella is the rare type of girl that doesn't start or spread them. She's the nice type of girl, a good girl, sweet and kind and gentle. It's that she _is_ a girl that makes her _not_ Edward's type.

Maybe if she was a boy, and perhaps blond. But Edward has already found himself a blond boy; one who he likes, a lot. He just doesn't know if Jasper feels the same way.

When he set out on fulfilling this Christmas wish, he never imagined it would be like this. He didn't expect to like the person _so much_. He thinks it may be a good thing, though. Incentive to do an even better job of giving Jasper some happiness.

―

Edward tries hard not to be any different after his newly acknowledged revelation about himself. He's more nervous, more afraid that he's going to fail miserably at his task, and he feels so painfully awkward now that he knows the change in him will likely be obvious.

When Edward makes his way to the back of the library, he finds the tables empty. No Jasper. Deliberately, he takes the chair Jasper had been sitting in the day before. He opens up his book and anxiously bites his fingernails to the point that they're starting to bleed.

He wonders if Jasper's forgotten.

Or if Jasper just didn't really like him in the first place.

Maybe Edward had been annoying him all along.

Or maybe he is at church, or doesn't wake up so early on weekends, or can't get a ride.

Edward doesn't know. He wishes that he did.

He waits for four long hours, but Jasper never comes.

Despondently, he slides into the front seat of his mom's car and shrugs his shoulders each time she asks him what's wrong.

It's less about the fact that he's lost another day to make Jasper's Christmas wish come true, and more to do with Edward's total fixation on his new friend.

Tomorrow, he decides, will just have to be different.

―

Jasper is all stiff limbs and forced smiles as he ungracefully takes the seat across from Edward. Edward is so relieved to see him, he forgets all about his disappointment the day before.

"Sorry I couldn't make it yesterday," Jasper says regretfully. He looks like he feels guilty. Edward doesn't want that; Edward just wants him to smile, to _really_ smile.

"No problem," he replies nonchalantly, shrugging for emphasis.

It doesn't matter.

Today, Edward is on a mission. He comes bearing permission and everything.

He doesn't ask Jasper right away; he waits until they've started talking again, like yesterday. Once Jasper stops glancing at him so uncertainly, stops fidgeting so hard, and starts to laugh at the completely dumb things that come out of Edward's mouth, that's when he asks.

"Do you want to come over to my house today? My mom is going to pick me up soon and she already said it would be okay if I had a friend over."

Edward is hopeful until the look on Jasper's face changes entirely. He gets closed up and cold all over again, stuttering, "Oh, I– I don't think... that–"

"I know it's kind of close to Christmas and everything, but I thought since we have school off, there's not really a lot to do. My mom will take you home whenever you want. If you even want to come, I mean, and if your parents are cool with it."

"It's not that I don't want to," Jasper says, and Edward can hear the 'but' coming. "I just– I don't know if I can."

"Yeah... My mom thought it would probably be too close to the holidays to ask you over, but I wanted to anyway. I thought it would be fun."

"I really want to," he says, again sounding guilty, and Edward wants to kick himself. He wanted to cheer him up, not make him sadder. Why is he so crappy at this?

"I get it," Edward hurriedly assures him.

"Maybe... Maybe I can run home quick and ask, and if I can come, I'll meet you back here?"

"Only if you want to. It's really no big deal, there's always like next week and stuff too."

Jasper stands, eyes wide and hands clenched in tight fists. He looks agitated. Edward's sure it's his fault. He is so stupid.

"I do. I want to. It will take me twenty minutes. Um, do you think your mom will wait?"

Nodding fervently, Edward says, "Yes, no problem. But she can just stop at your place on the way to mine. She won't mind. And even if you can't come, you at least got a ride home!"

"No," Jasper replies quickly to Edward's hopeful suggestion. "I'll be right back. I promise."

"Okay," Edward agrees, though Jasper is already retreating.

It's strange, he thinks, but he tries not to worry as he paces around the library waiting for his ride.

"Where's your friend?" Edward's mom asks when she picks him up.

Armed with nothing but Jasper's promise, he says, "He's coming."

It takes Jasper a little longer than he thought, but Edward believed him when he said he'd be back. He's red-faced from running and the cold, and Esme quietly scolds Edward for making Jasper _run_ home. Jasper is quick to defend, insisting it was what he wanted.

And then he's in the backseat beside Edward, and Edward _can't_ stop smiling. Jasper has a backpack with him and Edward thinks he might be _staying the night_ and he can't even force himself to appear anything but utterly ecstatic.

"Whoa," he hears Jasper mutter as they're coming up the drive to Edward's house, and Edward rolls his eyes in response. It's not that great ― living out in the middle of nowhere actually sucks most of the time, there's barely anything to do.

Jasper grabs his bag and Edward leads him inside. They kick their shoes off at the door, and run into Edward's dad on their way upstairs.

"Hey, Dad, this is Jasper," Edward introduces quickly.

His dad just stands there for a moment before clearing his throat and reaching his hand out. "Hi, Jasper, it's really nice to meet you. I'm Carlisle Cullen."

Jasper doesn't move, pausing the same way his dad did and Edward stares at them both questioningly. Finally, Jasper says, "Um, it's– it's really nice to meet you too."

His dad shakes Jasper's hand, holding it longer than normal, staring at him with this strange look on his face. He's being weird.

Edward grabs Jasper's free hand and pulls him toward the stairs. "Um, okay... Bye. We'll be in my room."

Jasper follows, letting Edward guide him up the staircase, down the hall, and into his bedroom. Once there, Jasper drops his backpack on Edward's floor and looks around in amazement. Edward will admit, his room is pretty awesome.

He drags Jasper over to the shelves encasing all of his music, and then realizes with a start that he's _holding Jasper's hand_.

Flushing dark red, he unclasps his fingers from around Jasper's. Embarrassed, he starts to ramble on about music.

"I just got this CD, do you want to listen to it?" he asks hurriedly.

Not waiting for an answer, he tears into the wrapping and flicks the case open. Carefully pushing the disc into his player, he waits impatiently for the sounds to start playing all around them.

Edward flops down on the couch against the wall as the music starts to play. Jasper crosses the room to sit beside him and Edward's knee bounces nervously along with the tempo of the song.

He really hadn't meant to hold Jasper's hand, but now that he already has, he desperately wants to do it again. And it's _right there_ , beside his.

"So, do you have a girlfriend?" Jasper asks.

"No," Edward answers.

Jasper scuffs his socked feet against the carpet. His knuckles are white where they grip the edge of the couch.

Edward really wants to touch him.

"Me neither," Jasper says. "Alice thinks she is, but I don't really like her that way."

"I know what you mean," Edward sighs. "My friend Bella is kind of like that. But I only want to be friends with her."

"Yeah," Jasper agrees. "Sometimes, I wish girls would just leave me alone."

Edward nods his understanding; he feels that way all the time. "I hate how they're always touching my hair and brushing up against me like a cat. It's so stupid. I wish they'd just flirt with someone else."

"Me too. Girls are weird."

Laughing, Edward turns to look at Jasper, and finds him already staring back. He's so happy to have found a friend that agrees with him. He hopes that Jasper feels the same. Exactly the same.

He feels his cheeks heat up at the thought and quickly looks away.

Here, at Edward's house, Jasper seems happier. That's all that Edward should really be hoping for, but he can't stop himself from thinking of other things.

Like holding Jasper's hand again. Even kissing him, and touching him.

"This music is weird," Jasper says, interrupting Edward's thoughts.

Scoffing, Edward stands to change it to something else, but Jasper laughs and grabs his hand, pulling him back down to the couch.

"I didn't mean that I don't like it. I just don't think I've ever actually listened to a whole song that didn't have words before."

"You've got a lot to learn," Edward informs him.

He stares down at their hands, still linked together and resting on the couch between their thighs. Jasper hasn't let go yet, and Edward isn't going to if he's not.

"So, I don't really like girls," Jasper says.

"I don't either."

"And you said you liked me the other day, and I like you too. So I just wondered..."

"Yes," Edward says, though Jasper never finishes his sentence. Whatever he was going to ask, Edward thinks the answer is probably 'yes'.

"You don't even know what I was going to say," Jasper says dubiously.

"I don't care," Edward decides. "You like me, and I definitely like you, so whatever it is, yes."

"What if I was wondering if you want me to leave?" Jasper asks.

"That's a stupid question," Edward says, then, "Wait, were you?"

"No," Jasper laughs.

"Well, then, see, I was right. My answer is yes."

"Your logic is flawed. I was really going to ask if you would be mad if I kissed you."

"Are you joking again?" Edward asks seriously. "I'll be mad at you if you're joking."

"That's– That's not really an answer," Jasper points out.

Frustrated, Edward leans in and quickly kisses Jasper. Just as quickly, he pulls back, doing nothing more than just brushing their lips together chastely, but Edward can't help feeling like it was still _so good_.

Taking a deep, stuttering breath, Edward says, "There. Is that a good enough answer for you?"

Edward's heart races as they stare at each other. Jasper's eyes are wide and so, so blue. He looks kind of surprised, but pleased nonetheless. He doesn't answer Edward's question. He releases Edward's hand and places both of his on Edward's shoulders, pressing their mouths softly together.

He does much more than just press their lips together, though. He really, _really_ kisses Edward. Unsurprisingly to Edward, Jasper's a great kisser, and he tries desperately to keep up. He's never kissed anyone like this before, and he wants so badly for Jasper to be impressed.

The taste of him gets to Edward quickly, making him want to wedge himself closer. Jasper's lips are so soft and warm against Edward's, and the feel of his tongue sweeping against the seam of Edward's lips and then into his mouth drives him crazy.

Edward pulls back, blinking his eyes open to stare at Jasper. His lips are plush, a little wet, and a lush pink color. Edward shifts his position slightly and enthusiastically leans into Jasper again.

It gets a little difficult to breathe normally, and again, Edward is the first to pull away. Jasper is so much better at kissing than him, but even he's breathing kind of heavily. Edward reaches over and places his palm against the soft cotton of Jasper's shirt and feels the pounding rhythm of his heartbeat, the heaving of his chest with each breath.

Jasper's hands move from Edward's shoulders, down to his sides. It tickles a little, how lightly he touches Edward, but he forces himself not to flinch, and when Jasper pushes him back a little, the feeling changes entirely.

The kissing changes too, when Jasper starts again. He sucks at Edward's lower lip, nibbles at it, until Edward doesn't know what else to do but push his tongue into Jasper's mouth and groan when he starts to suck on that too.

They're panting and red in the face when Edward's mom yells up the stairs. "Boys, what would you like me to make for dinner?"

Guiltily, they separate and straighten themselves up.

"Um. Is there anything certain you want? Or something you don't like?"

Jasper shrugs and says, "Whatever is fine."

Edward is uncomfortably hard in his jeans, and it kind of hurts to stand and walk, but it's probably for the best. His door is wide open and his mom or dad could have easily just caught him _making out_ with Jasper. They could have been a little more careful.

From his doorway, he calls down, "Anything is fine, mom."

"Are you sure, sweetie?" she questions.

"I don't really like spicy food," Jasper says hesitantly from behind him.

"Nothing spicy," Edward answers.

He thinks he hears her mutter, "Well, _that's_ helpful," but he can't be sure as he closes the door before turning back to Jasper, who's laughing at something.

Jasper is flipping through Edward's kitten-of-the-day calendar, obviously amused.

"Shut up," Edward grumbles, glaring in a way that _dares_ Jasper to challenge his love of kittens.

Jasper continues to chuckle as he makes his way around the room, and Edward sits on his bed to watch him.

Edward keeps his bedroom tidy, mostly, and he's thankful that it's not a mess now that Jasper's examining all of his things. It would be embarrassing if he had dirty clothes thrown everywhere or garbage cluttering everything up.

He watches intently as Jasper's shoulders go up as he stands at Edward's desk. Curious, Edward shifts to face him fully and gets nervous at the look of hurt on Jasper's face when he turns around.

"Where did you get this?" Jasper asks.

He has the note.

Oh.

"I, um. I found it at the library," Edward says carefully.

Jasper shakes his head. "Why... Why do you even have it?"

Edward watches him as he looks down at the note and wipes every hint of emotion off of his face, hiding his pain behind the mask.

"I found it, and I wanted to help. Whoever wrote it deserved for their wish to come true."

"You knew it was me?" he demands to know as he starts to pace the length of Edward's room. "How did you even know?"

"I didn't, not really. I guessed– I hoped that it was. I wanted it to be you, and I'm glad that it is."

"So, what, you're just being nice to me because I'm... fucking pathetic? Is this some kind of pity thing? I don't want to be some charity case for your perfect family–"

"Jesus, Jasper, no," Edward says firmly, cutting him off. He stands and grabs Jasper's arms, stopping his manic pacing. His eyes... His eyes are so sad. It breaks Edward's heart. "No. I found this," he starts, gingerly taking the note from Jasper's hands, "on one of the library tables, and I just couldn't stop thinking about it. I couldn't do anything but wonder what I could do to make this wish come true. It was all I wanted.

"Then I saw you, and I don't know. It was like I just knew that it was you and everything changed. I liked you, so much, right away, and it wasn't just about the note. We have all this stuff in common and I... I really like you. As much as I still want to make sure you get your wish, I kind of want more than that too."

Jasper huffs and pushes Edward away from him. Hurt, Edward staggers back and falls onto his bed, sitting there watching Jasper stare at the floor with his shoulders hunched up around his ears.

He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know if he's supposed to feel sorry ― he doesn't, but he wonders if he should. He never meant to hurt Jasper. Somehow that went wrong, and he wants to make it better, but he just has no idea how. Everything he does seems to make things worse. His whole plan was dumb and it blew up in his face, but he can't be sorry and he doesn't want to take it back, he just wishes he was _better_ , at everything, for Jasper.

He picks at a loose thread on his jeans and waits for Jasper to say something. To call him stupid, or anything, just as long as he says _something_.

Jasper sighs and Edward looks up. He's softened a bit, dropped his shoulders a little and stopped looking so painfully closed off.

"Do you think I'm a loser?" Jasper asks.

"I think you're really great and I really hope you don't leave," Edward says.

At that, Jasper's lips quirk up into the faintest of smiles, but he still doesn't look at Edward as he takes a step closer. Close enough that when Edward reaches out, he can catch Jasper's hand and pull him closer yet.

It feels a bit sappy, especially with Debussy playing in the background, but still, Edward holds Jasper's hand in his and asks, "Will you stay?"

Jasper rolls his eyes a bit, maybe at the cheesiness or maybe at Edward himself, but his answer is clear as he tackles Edward back onto the bed, kissing him.

Relief and happiness quickly turn to different feelings altogether when Jasper stays lying on top of Edward, kissing him with every bit of skill that he has.

Edward can't help the way he starts to clutch at Jasper's back, hips rocking up in search of friction. Jasper's hard too, he can feel it. It just feels so good.

Jasper pulls his upper body away from Edward, placing his palm beside Edward's head to hold himself up over him.

"Have you ever–" he starts to ask.

"No, nothing," Edward interrupts. His eyes are locked on Jasper's pink-red lips and he can barely think straight.

"Do you want–"

"If you do."

"You really have to start letting me finish my sentences," Jasper grumbles.

"Sorry," Edward says, eyes still trained on Jasper's mouth.

Jasper smiles, and that's ― oh, that's perfect. Then he starts to kiss Edward again, and that's perfect too. He shifts his weight off of Edward, rolling onto his side, and that is definitely far from perfect.

Edward groans his protest, clutching at him to draw him closer again. Jasper laughs quietly before his hand moves to Edward's crotch, and Edward nearly bucks right off the bed at the touch.

His eyes search out Jasper's questioningly, and Jasper whispers, "Is this okay?"

Edward nods ardently. "I want to," he says.

"Me too. Your parents?"

Trying to blink away his confusion, Edward looks at the door and then at Jasper. "Mom will probably just yell up the stairs and dad is probably busy."

That seems to be a good enough answer for Jasper too, as he pops the button open on Edward's jeans. It's a horribly awkward angle, but with Edward helping by raising his hips, they're able to work his jeans and boxers down his thighs.

Edward's so, so hard ― he's never been so hard in his life ― and Jasper stares at it for a minute, before hurriedly rolling onto his back and pushing his own jeans and underwear down. He lies on top of Edward again when both of their dicks are free, and Edward is a little disappointed that Jasper wasn't still for long enough to let Edward have a good look at his. But that disappointment doesn't last long. All other thoughts leave his mind when Jasper ruts down against him, bare skin against bare skin, and then wraps his fingers around him.

It's so good. Edward shudders and fists the blankets at his hips, eye fluttering shut for half a second before he remembers how good this will be to watch. He watches his dick slide in and out of Jasper's fist and then Jasper's dick rubbing up against the jut of his hip.

"Um, Edward," Jasper says hesitantly.

"Huh?" Edward asks dazedly.

Jasper bites his lip, looking down between them. At their cocks. At Jasper's hand on Edward's cock. At Jasper's cock not in Edward's hand. He should... He should reciprocate.

Jasper licks his lips and puffs out a breath of a moan when Edward touches him. His dick feels the same as Edward's, only a little smaller. Edward really likes it, how it feels and looks, and it probably tastes good too.

Edward's hips rock up against Jasper's hand and body, quickening the pace. It feels so much better than his own hand and he feels like he's getting close. In his mindless pleasure, Edward tightens his grip, speeding up his movement and forcing these quiet, hurt little sounds out of Jasper. With his free hand, Edward pulls his mouth down to his. Jasper moans into the kiss, biting down on Edward's lip a little before quickly pulling away again.

"Push your shirt up," he pants. "Push your shirt up or I'm going to–"

Edward grasps his shirt and yanks it up as much as he can before Jasper's eyes close and he bites down on his lip. He comes on Edward's stomach, shuddering and shaking through it.

Edward gasps at the sight and feels his cock twitch in Jasper's hand. Jasper's hold is tight but he's barely moving anymore, lost in his own release, and still it's enough to get Edward off. He spurts into Jasper's hand, watching with his mouth wide open as his come drips through Jasper's fingers and onto his stomach.

"Oh," Edward sighs, head falling back.

"That was..." Jasper whispers.

"Yeah," Edward agrees.

The mess starts to feel sticky between them, forcing them to move. It's such a mess and they both laugh about it, cleaning up quickly.

With everything back in order, feeling beyond _good_ , Edward pulls Jasper back down on the bed with him, kissing him over and over until he feels lightheaded.

As he falls back beside Jasper, he asks, "Can I ask you something?" Jasper hums his consent, and Edward twines their fingers together, holding on. "Does this make you happy?"

Jasper doesn't hesitate, and Edward believes him completely when he easily answers, "Yes."

That's all Edward needs to hear.


End file.
